


empire.

by starstrucktooru



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Mythology References, Pining, Post-Break Up, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18503527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstrucktooru/pseuds/starstrucktooru
Summary: But maybe the gods took it as a challenge, to see who will prevail and who will lie forgotten, crushed by the ruins and struggling to get back on her feet. But maybe there’s no ethereal deity watching over us, no red strings connecting our souls forever. Maybe this is how it was meant to be, maybe we were meant to crash and burn from the start. Because I called us an empire, and like an empire we fell.





	empire.

Maybe it was my fault, maybe I shouldn’t have uttered those words with such ease, for I forgot how cruel the gods can be, how they meddle with humans just for the sake of temporary entertainment, drinking up all the destruction and devastation like nectar.

I forgot how bonds thicker than blood have nothing against the vicious arrogance of the gods, who wouldn’t lift a finger to stop the tragedy unfold, but would smile in the face of it and think nothing more of it than the afternoon entertainment. I forgot about Medusa and Arachne, whose lives have been destroyed by goddesses poisoned with jealousy, about Aphrodite’s blood spilling on the roses after her lover’s death. I forgot about Apollo bringing Patroclus to his downfall, leaving Achilles behind to wreak havoc, blinded with grief.

Yet, I thought strong of us, standing tall and proud, convinced nothing could tear us apart. But maybe the gods took it as a challenge, to see who will prevail and who will lie forgotten, crushed by the ruins and struggling to get back on her feet. But maybe there’s no ethereal deity watching over us, no red strings connecting our souls forever. Maybe this is how it was meant to be, maybe we were meant to crash and burn from the start. Because I called us an empire, and like an empire we fell.

Like an empire we started, too. Struggled and fought with tooth and nail to build the foundation, that one summer when we were both clumsy sculptors and the sculptures themselves, trying to free the other one out of the stubborn marble. We though too much of ourselves, to be on par with something as vulnerable as marble. We crashed and burned and rose like phoenixes every day, but the fight was slowly wearing us down, and it still haunts me to this day. Your voice still echoes in my mind, pleading with me to promise I won’t leave you, plucking at my heartstrings viciously at night when sleep feels like a chore and I have to drown it out with loud songs with even louder basses.

I remember the end of the summer, our tired but proud smiles when we came out victorious, how we said ‘if we could survive this summer, we can survive everything’. We buried our animosity in autumn, colourful leaves feeling more like all of our fiery feathers and the start of the new era, and we flew high up in the bright sky as if trying to reach for the Sun we were so deprived of during the summer.

It was like they say, it's the beginning that is the hardest because after that we stood powerful and untouchable. We built our empire on laughter, joy and trust, on tears and heartache and fear, secrets slithering and wrapping themselves around like vines keeping everything from crumbling.

But I forgot. Oh, I forgot. Marble is still vulnerable. One moment of carelessness and the pebbles that once fit like pieces of the puzzle will never find their place again. Sun might be merciful but dare reach too close and you'll end up like poor Icarus, with Apollo laughing at your misery.  Vines will crawl to the deepest cracks, but they're still frail and nothing against the sharp rocks. We are still nothing against the fine thread of the Moirai.

Every great empire crashed, yet I was drunk on delusions of grandeur, foolish enough to think that somehow we could change the fate's design. Like I don't know, like I haven't learned about Jason and Perseus and Sisyphus and Prometheus.

I called us an empire and like an empire we fell, but you are the Eastern, and I the Western.


End file.
